Tuesday 7th May - Return to The Old Road

Up early wanted to get across some of desert before the temp rose to the 35°C of the previous days. A high point was to be seeing Roy’s Café again, an iconic place at Amboy.

 Had coffee and a cinnabon for breakfast. That probably exceeded my recommended calorie intake threefold but looking for a healthy breakfast in Vegas is like bears eating marmots – they love them but expend more energy catching them than they get from eating them – see what a wildlife expert I’m becoming.

Just to stress a point – see below – I thought I’d better explain what a cinnabon is for those less travelled or more discerning. SO, I googled cinnabon and lo and behold you get “Cinnabon - World Famous Cinnamon Rolls” yeah, right, who’s world!

Collected the bike from the terrific Bike Park the hotel had – apart from a couple of rental scooters the only other guests using it were a couple of bikers from San Diego – again though, they weren’t on Harleys!

 

Getting out of Vegas was easy, but even at that time I wouldn’t have liked to be coming in – already is was nose to tail – can’t believe I’m discussing riding My bike in Vegas!

As I crested the rise at the south of the city I saw the road I wanted, heading to the old road, 100 odd miles south.

The terrain at the side of the road between the hills had a fresh green look which I tried to capture and failed. This was though an illusion as when you got closer you saw that the greenness was created by small shrubs which together, like pixels on a digital photo, created the image but between them the land was rocky and dry.

 

Then I had to stop and put a fleece on – I was cold. The weather is just plain awkward.  It was 18° but in the usual wind it felt chilly.

As you drive the desert your mind wanders – I know mine sometime clears off altogether – and deep philosophical thoughts enter your head. For example I’m driving an “old” road, but in reality it’s not that old compared to the time creatures have roamed the earth… soooo what did they call Road Runners before there were roads?
Left Nevada and into California – felt good.

I love trains, well I would wouldn’t I. I remember a dear uncle telling me when I was knee high to the proverbial that trains had to be “double-headers” to get over Shap Fell and I felt really grown up knowing about “double –headers” Well here I’ve seen quadruple headers and been impressed but today caps it all, this train passed me with 8 engines pulling it - must have been a cinnabon delivery!

Met this chap trying to cross the road and admit it was a bit of a surprise, didn’t realise that there were tortoises in these parts, but yes, the Desert Tortoise (Gopherus agassizii) is native to the Mojave Desert. Anyway, Froggy liked him.

Then came long stretches of road of classic Route 66 ilk – so lots of shots.

A wonderful sight as I drove along these bits were the number of “dust-devils” that I could see in the desert – at one point there were 5 all going at the same time. Of course as soon as I got the camera out they collapsed but it was an amazing sight seeing them dance along as though just for me.

I also so this in the distance – knew it couldn’t be a glacier but boy did it look like it.On getting closer it is obviously some kind of quarying operation but I can’t seem to find out what. Any answers?

This put paid to my lunch plans…..

 

Arrived at Roy’s Café full of expectation. Opened in 1938 as a gas station and Motel Roy’s had gone the way of many of the Route 66 businesses. I had been there several years ago when it was just being renovated but not yet re-opened. The guy doing the renovation had been terrific and I’d warmed to the place. The toilets at that time were a couple of portaloos which harboured the Black Death.  Well, now there are modern toilets but that’s about all that’s changed. The place was a bitter disappointment and the guy that worked there certainly didn’t want to be there.

 

 

 

 

There’s a sharp contrast sometimes in the perception of what is and what is not significant. I’ve already mentioned the “world famous” tag that seems to get applied to everything from pie shops to … well cinnamon rolls.   On the other hand, some things of genuine uniqueness miss the mark.

I was standing by my bike outside Roy’s when a “good ol boy” approached me and opened the conversation with “How do you like the desert?” Being a refined Englishman I said “very well thank you” and then followed on in true English tradition by commenting on how cold it had been though.

He didn’t respond to that just said “yup, strange things can happen in the desert in these parts” – honest, this is nearly verbatim – and then went on “This was Charles Manson’s area you know”  Now, when someone with a grin which resembles a vandalised graveyard starts talking about Charles Manson certain parts start twitching. So, trying to head him off I pointed to what I knew to be the Amboy Crater. Is that a volcano I asked, “Don’t know, but she will, she knows everything” Oh lawd there’s another of them! When “she” came out of the ladies  he asked her “Maybelline (ok, I made that bit up, but she ought to have been called that) is that a volcano?” “ Hell no it’s just a pile of dirt they’ve pushed up”  I’m sure the Department of Interior will be really disappointed in her advocacy for the area.

“Hey, didn’t Charles Manson operate around here?” he went on, “He stayed in the motel one night” says “she” “ Oh, he stayed in the motel.” They drove off.

Just a note, looking at the interweb it appears that it is a common misconception that Manson had anything to do with THIS Amboy. He was born in Amboy, New Jersey.

As I left Roy’s the terrain began to be covered in black volcanic rock, well it would be wouldn’t it, it had a big pile of dirt spewing lava all over it til 500 years ago.

Drove along the worst bit of road of the whole trip for some 7 miles – the old concrete slab with the top worn off. Each yard had me convinced the tyres would be ripped to shreds and the bike shaken to bits – got a little down with his as it went on for so long and I had been “dreaming” of getting to the end of the Route. Still it did come to an end and bike still running at the moment!

As with many of the “attractions”, world famous or otherwise they did not always appear as glamorous in the flesh as in the books or on TV. I think this bottle farm appeared on the Billy Connelly program – but actually it was rather naff.

 



And on to Barstow for the night. Tomorrow San Bernardino and LA!